Thirty
by TheWomanWhoCodesAndWrites
Summary: The first few hours of Day's thirtieth birthday, told by the woman who has loved him for half of his life. "Today is Daniel's birthday. He is thirty years old. I've intended to start my day as I'd done the previous, but when I roll over to kiss him, he's not there." Pure Day/June fluff, written as a belated birthday gift to The Republic's one and only Legend, Day.


**AN: **Written as a belated gift to our beloved street criminal, Day, for his birthday on January 5. Happy birthday, Cousin!

**Disclaimer: **All belongs to Marie Lu. I'm just borrowing her amazing creations.

* * *

**June**

_Ruby Sector, Los Angeles_  
_January 5_  
_05.29 hours_  
_62 F indoors_

Today is Daniel's birthday. He is thirty years old.

For the first time since he returned to Los Angeles two and a half years ago, we are actually home to celebrate it. We'd celebrated his twenty eighth in Antarctica, having a lazy day filled with games (and _romance_)in between the intense days spent finalizing his move back to The Republic. He'd turned twenty nine in the middle of our belated Vegas honeymoon, and we'd celebrated it climbing the inner roof of a defunct airbase, as high as my (then) _condition_ allowed. We had even jokingly planned a free climb ('no harness, no clip, just you and me and that wall') over the old Denver Armory for this year, but at the end we know better. We are no longer those brave, naive teenagers with a lot to prove and nearly nothing to lose. We have someone we are deep in love with, someone we can't even think about leaving.

This is Daniel's first birthday as a father. I gave him a child last summer, a girl we named Dawn after the first light of the day.

I've intended to start my day as I'd done the previous. I open my eyes at exactly 05.29 hrs, giving myself one minute to get out of my bed and orientate. Then, I roll over to give Daniel the usual quick peck on the lips, and see nothing but wrinkled sheets and an indented pillow.

I run my hand on the sheets and the pillow to check. They are as cool as the bedroom air is. When the next minute passes and that familiar wail doesn't start, I know something unusual had happened. Daniel and Dawn are not in the apartment.

My heart starts thundering, slamming hard against my ribcage. Without further thoughts, I bolt out of my bedroom, toward the nursery across the living room. The nursery door is wide open. Suddenly, my legs feel weak. We usually close it after each check and each feeding.

"Daniel?" I call out. _No. Not again. Please tell me something else. I'd done what I'd promised You I would. Please. I don't want to be alone again._ "Dawn?"

A soft coo from the nursery answers me. My heart slows down, knowing that at least my baby is home and alive. With my newly regained strength and half of my logic, I step past that threshold, into the modest yet warm room with yellow walls. Straight away, I see Dawn in her crib, on her stomach with her head tilted toward me. She looks at me sleepily, her dark eyes half-open. I've just woken her up.

"Sorry, Kid." I pick my lookalike-daughter up. "Your crazy mother was just being silly."

It's only when I perch Dawn on my hip that I realize I'm not wearing my night robe. Little by little, I remember the fun Daniel and I had after Dawn's midnight feeding. And something else dawns on me.

One lifetime ago, in the midst of chaos and war, a sixteen year old boy, fragile and close to death, had left me alone and naked in a bed, with pieces of broken glass and flower petals on a cherrywood floor. And this morning, a thirty year old man with a dark, fogged-up past had done the same.

Something is bothering him, the way it did him - the way it did _Day _- that night.

"What's your Dad up to?" I whisper to Dawn, kissing her head. Her tufty dark hair feels so soft, so silky. "Did he tell you?"

I get a coo, and another sleepy look. _Of course. _Dawn is only five months and twenty five days old. Even if Daniel had told her everything he felt, she probably wouldn't just start telling me today.

"He gave you a bottle at five, didn't he?" I whisper at my baby again, as it registers to me how content she is and how firm her tummy feels under my hand. Now, I'm no longer wondering why she didn't cry. "He planned this. And he hasn't been gone for too long."

Dawn looks up at me. I might be going crazy, but I think she understands my reasoning. Any child of mine and Daniel's - of the Republic's only Prodigies with perfect scores, under the old Trial system - will surely be smart.

"Let's go after him," I decide, heading toward the dresser at the corner to get Dawn's 'outside' clothes. "I think I know where he is."

* * *

_Lake Sector, Los Angeles_  
_06.30 hours_  
_60 F outside_

One of the first things our Elector did, after the war threat from The Colonies had subsided, was improving the life standards in Lake and similar sectors.

Though Lake is still no Ruby or Batalla, the streets look much cleaner now. The power plant runs on two eight-hour shifts nowadays, instead of a fourteen-hour one like what Daniel's brother John - I hold my breath, as I remember him - used to have. The Republic built a new high school for the sector about ten years ago. It is a non-rank school, meaning, anyone from the area can go there regardless of their final ranks in the elementary exams. Over the past few years, this new high school had seen about fifteen of its students - whose talents had bloomed late - entering Drake after they graduated. The new Lake Sector also has a hospital, small and a little understaffed but good enough for non life-threatening cases. With the introduction of the Republic Health Care Scheme, anyone who needs immediate intervention can present themselves at Los Angeles Central or any big hospital and be seen straight away. I can see the impact of all these good changes in the smiles of all the people I see - these _Cousins _- around me. With a nostalgic pain, I remember the ignorant fifteen year old who'd walked this very street with vengeance and hatred in her veins. I'm glad that I'm no longer that girl, although I don't regret having her as a part of my past.

From Union Station, where Dawn and I got off our train, I carry Dawn to the park along the lake. It's yet another new feature of the sector, only opened two years ago. On a cold, dark winter morning, we are about the only humans here. It doesn't mean we can go undetected, though, because Dawn is just too cute (especially with the puppy-ear beanie I'd chosen for her this morning). Between my striking child, and the famed 'Young Champions' statue at the other end of the park, I probably stand out like a coatless soldier in an assembly. With a familiar dread in my chest, I run a hand over the hidden knife on my belt.

_Focus, June. No one is here to hurt you. No one is here to hurt your baby._

But some old fears are hard to shake, and I remain vigilant, _hyper_-vigilant, until I reach the pier. It's one of the few original structures they keep in this place for nostalgia; Daniel's favourite. Quickly noting my surroundings (clear area, short shrubs between pier and the street, pre-sunrise condition, low tide, five boats moored in a random pattern at least ten feet away from the shore), I secure a firm arm around Dawn and lower myself off the lowest end of the pier. With a soft thud, I land us safely on the wet ground underneath. Immediately, I feel a hand on my shoulder - and I smile, because I've found my husband.

"What are you doing here?" There's an accusation in his voice.

I whirl around to face him. "You left."

He runs a hand on his short, messy white-blond hair. "I didn't... I'm not leaving you _for good_. What made you think so?"

_The past, _I want to say. _You walked away just like that when we were sixteen, and I thought I'd lost you forever._

But instead, I flash him a wicked grin, lock that part of our past safely in its hidden box, and tiptoe to kiss him on his lips. "Happy birthday."

He meets my lips, first distant, then gradually more and more eager. When we break apart for air, he holds his arms out and looks at me, pleading me to give him our daughter. I let him take Dawn, and follow them under the pier, to the wall of packed dirt. Daniel and I lean side by side on the scratchy surface, wordless and small against the golden sunrise before us. It must be close to 07.00 hrs now.

"What brought you here?" I finally ask him, once the rays reach the water before us, giving it that shiny sparkle I've seen so many times by now.

"I don't know," he shrugs. "Just felt like going here."

His eyes are fixed on an empty stretch of land across the lake, where the foundation of a new building has been laid. Where the L.A. Trial Stadium used to be.

And suddenly, it all becomes clear to me. On this very day, twenty years ago, a ten year old boy had boarded a bus to that stadium, full of hope and dreams. He'd taken the Trial he'd prepared for, and aced each and every component. And The Republic had failed him. They'd taken him away from his family and sent him to death, when they should've given him everything they gave me six months and six days later.

"I want to see," Daniel says, softly, heartbreakingly, "that everything I have now is real. That life has moved on. That The Republic is a better place now."

"It's all real." I feel tears in my eyes, tears for the innocent boy whose only mistake was being _himself. _"There's no more Trial. There's no more plague. Everyone has a chance to live past ten now."

He gazes on. I wipe my tears and watch, taking in the sight of the boy I've loved for fourteen years now, and of the embodiment of our love he holds tightly in his arms.

"I often wonder what would've been," Daniel turns to me. "If I'd had someone... someone different in my interview. If they'd just let me pass that Trial. Would we be friends? Enemies? Would we still be here today?"

His question invokes this sharp pain in me, one that I've always had every time I could bring myself to think about _it. _"Well." I inhale. "I think I would first hate your guts, for being the first person who scored that perfect 1500. Then, you would walk over to me and introduce yourself at school, or at one of those Prodigy Parties. I would first think you were a freak, but then I would be head over heels for you."

"How flattering." He chuckles, his ocean blue eyes lighting up. "Do you think we'd still stir all those... those _troubles_ we'd stirred?"

"Definitely." I nod, feeling incredibly optimistic. I'd often think about this, too. "We might not have got there until we were twenty five or so, but, _Day, _it's not in both of us to stay silent."

He smiles one of those knowing smiles at me. "Looks like you think about it often, too."

"And of the other possibility," I admit, shifting my weight from one leg to another. "If they'd concluded that I'd cheated during my Trial, if they'd sent me where they'd sent you, if I too had escaped death and survived by the day on the streets - what would've become of us?"

"We would've been this goddy cracked team," Daniel answers, without the slightest hesitation. "We would've survived together, and kept the street police working double shifts with no result."

The prospect of it makes me laugh. He is right. We would have been these angry, unstoppable, sharp-minded kids determined to right all the wrongs in our lives. "Would I have some sort of street name?"

"Maybe." Daniel winks at me. "What do you think about 'Eve'?"

"Goddy hell, Day." I burst out laughing. "We would've been so cracked."

"You speak like a true street criminal already, Sweetheart." He leans down to kiss me. "I think I'll always be crazy about you, no matter what we are."

My laughter dies. If only I had been a different person, Daniel's mother and brother wouldn't have died. I could have spared him years of pain. At times like this, I really know I don't deserve him. Not even after a million lifetimes.

"Our children will never have to go through any of those." Daniel pulls me back to the present, to the sunrise and to our little family of three. He is giving our daughter this gentle, loving look now - a look which both warms and breaks my heart. "Not Dawn. Not her little brothers, or her little sisters."

I frown, and cross my arms. "Daniel, I've just got back in shape."

He gives me a quick one-over. "Commander, I don't think you've ever been out of shape."

"Lies," I call him out on it, rolling my eyes. "I could barely waddle to inspect my patrols from the 35th week on."

Daniel shakes his head a little, and lets out a small sigh. "I don't think The Republic has ever seen another pregnant Lead Commander on duty, June."

"Then The Republic will have to get used to it." I smile, as I remember the looks on those twenty year old Lieutenants' faces when they saw a heavily pregnant woman hollering orders at them. "I might be The Pregnant General, one day."

"Thought you don't want another."

"I didn't say that." I press my body against Daniel's, savoring our closeness. "I just want to be back on the field for a while, before we have the second."

"And the third." He takes my hand, and places our entwined hands above Dawn's clenched little fist. "Three is a good number."

"So you can have your own pet tornado who talks back?" I raise a brow.

He laughs, and kisses me on my lips again. "Definitely. Now, if you could do me a favor..."

"Not here," I cut him off, glancing up through the gaps on the pier above - then at Dawn, whose curious eyes meet mine. "It's not... not private enough. And we have a baby here."

A funny look crosses Daniel's face. "What are you thinking about? I was just going to ask if you could take us somewhere. Today's our common day off, right?"

"Oh." I feel heat creeping up my face. I thought he was asking for _that one thing. _"Sure. Where do you want to go?"

He takes my chin gently, and tilts my face up a little. Suddenly, I'm looking at two familiar pools of ocean blue, one perfect and one imperfect with a tiny, endearing ripple. And that knot in my stomach, the one which is always there whenever I'm with this man before me, grows tighter.

"I want you," he says, "to take us to the place where you and I first saw each other, as the girl in disguise and the boy from the streets."

And the memory floods me, as vivid as it has always been. A sharp pain on my side. Shouts. Explosion. And the most beautiful boy I've ever seen, emerging from the chaos and the dust.

He hasn't remembered it, I know. And probably, he'll never remember. Yet the fact that he asked me about it, the fact that he wants to remember, is more than enough for me. I soak in every detail of his face. His coat-and-pants clad figure, as tall and slim as ever. Our baby daughter, who inherits the shape of his almond eyes and his calming effect on me, snuggled safely against him. They are my lights. They are my _life._

"I can take you there," I say to them both, feeling a smile spreading on my face. I can give this gift to them. "It'll be a great start for a great birthday."


End file.
